


It's a Start

by Shatterpath



Series: First and Third [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: BAMF Women, Canon Continuation, Friendship, Gen, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pre-Slash, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my wish for how Tuesday's season finale will go! Updated 2-27 to more closely reflect canon and some rough spots were smoothed out.</p>
<p>Episode notes: Hey, look at that! I wasn't jossed nearly as badly as I expected to be. Excellent. So glad to see Angie again in the finale-- I've missed the happy little muffin-- though I would have liked more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Start

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a twofold project for me. I'm beginning a new Epic that these two will be an important part of and this is my official start and I want to put down my best guesses for how Tuesday's season finale will go. That said, I guarantee there will be some rewriting done to this to tweak it both to canon and to my larger tale. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> Written in less than a couple hours in the early morning of 2-13-15. Updated closer to canon 2-27.
> 
> Random humorous comments to my IM pals while typing this out:  
> Writing a character piece for Angie and Peggy to the strains of Lady Gaga's 'Government Hooker'. PRICELESS.  
> And then right into Metric's 'Help I'm Alive'. Oh random, you DO love me!

No one had expected Angie's boisterous arrival in the breathless pause after so much deadly chaos.

Shaken with all the violence and horror piled on them too much too fast, the collective agents of the SSR jumped in alarm at the woman's shattering the quiet moment.

"Peggy!"

Only the way the Englishwoman's face lit up with bone-deep relief stayed the reflexive violence of her fellows and they all marveled at the blaze of pastels and curls that pounced on Peggy the way a cat did a mouse. Rocked back, Peggy nearly dropped her gun as completely as she dropped her guard, too relieved to see Angie, to hold her, too shattered by taking on so much happening, not the least of which was finally, finally having her team at her back. Thompson even chuckled and pushed her from behind to keep from being bowled over from the smaller woman.

"God, English, I was so worried," Angie breathed shakily, relishing the smell and feel of her friend, whole and hale. Thompson raised hands for mercy at the blue-eyed venomous glower over Carter's shoulder and stepped away.

"I'll let you explain, Carter," he said very seriously if one was to ignore the thrum of amusement beneath the weariness. Peggy fired him a look both annoyed and grateful as he left them to reunite and barked at the guys to get on cleanup.

"Oh, Angie, I'm so glad to see you. How did you know where to find me?"

"Followed the chaos, of course."

Only then did they allow a breath between them, trading warm grins before Angie socked Peggy in the shoulder. "They dragged you off chained up! What happened? Jeez, Peggy, warn a girl."

"I promise I'll tell you what I can, Angie, really, but it will have to wait just a bit. I will say that the boys and I are on the same side again, all right?"

For a moment, Angie studied the restless dark eyes with a gravity that had never been a part of their odd relationship before. It struck Peggy in that moment that she had truly underestimated this young woman and that steadied her, anchored her in the chaos and pain and adrenaline. Angie was treated to the pleasure of being this extraordinary woman's rock, her breath slowing, tension flowing out of the tense muscles hard beneath the scuffled, snappy suit, pupils relaxing.

"There's my English. Now, come on, show me what I can do to help out, because I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

For once, Peggy didn't argue, merely found her something useful to do.

Sousa and Thompson in particular were the recipients of Angie's icy disdain, unrelenting until the latter complimented her on throwing them off Peggy's trail back at the boarding house. Only then did she work quietly to corral reporters and local police and looky-loos, sticking close to one of them and the protection of the badges they wore. It said something that, hours and hours later when night had long since grown heavy and cold around them, Angie tromped back to the SSR with them, past the banks of half-manned phone company equipment and through the secret doors, and no one made a peep of objection. In fact, she charmed the dickens out of the whole lot by making coffee to get them all warmed up and plunking herself beside a bone-weary Peggy to wield a found notebook and pencil.

"Guess I'm going to secretary school after all, huh?"

They all chuckled over that.

That the unexpected livewire who washed in among them in Carter's wake never once blinked during the agonizing debrief around the big table impressed the agents, when they could think at all. A long, serious talk with Thompson-- Dooley's clear successor like it or not-- had her filling out a stack of paperwork she joked would break her foot if she dropped it, automat long forgotten. Thus the SSR lost their most senior agent, but achieve a symmetry of sorts by gaining their newest one. With memories still raw at how wrong things had gone with Carter, the men were almost unfailingly respectful with Angie and when they slipped she sassed them archly, joyfully telling one or two of them off with a relish she'd never been able to really let loose in the workplace before. The second round earned her applause, Peggy desperately trying not to laugh hysterically. Sousa had no such qualms about holding back his amusement, perfectly aware that almost should have been him cringing at the berating. 

When the senator breezed in slick with oily charm and compliments, Angie noticed Peggy's wistful resignation that barely flickered as Thompson reverted back to the fathead she's complained of before. Sousa was barely willing to be restrained by a few steely words to let it go, but Peggy had needed to scruff Angie by her collar to be hauled off to rant off her anger in an isolated meeting room.

It was a week before anyone left the building to do more than eat, shower and change clothes, the replacing of the windows blown out by Dooley's heroic demise galvanizing them all back to the real world. He would have been the first to kick their collective asses to move on and get back to business, to living. Jarvis blinked in surprise when Angie put a gentle arm on his arm and quietly thanked him for all he'd done to help Peggy, and gave Howard a narrowed-eyed glare than made him cringe and kick at the ground like a little boy. The drive to the Griffith was quiet, Peggy and Angie pressed shoulder to shoulder, too weary to hold themselves up apart, minds racing around so busily they could only be half-concerned for the state of their worldly things.

It was hard to get too worked up over dresses and hairbrushes potentially gone missing after everything they'd been through.

By some miracle, the trample of government agents all over her sacred ground had actually cowed Miriam Fry and their rooms were completely untouched, even the hole in the wall that had sent her into hysterics. The women who's safe haven had been so violated watched quietly, not speaking a word, as the four of them tromped upstairs. It was incredibly discomfiting, a first, bitter taste for Angie of the life she had chosen when she refused to be parted from Peggy and all she was. It would be a lesson of apartness she would never forget.

Only Jarvis winced wordlessly as both women carelessly threw their clothing onto their beds and into suitcases to be bundled away while Howard crept away to settle up with Fry. Still subdued even in the presence of so many lovely ladies, he returned and accepted the bulging sack of bedsheet Angie thrust at him as the quartet left as quietly as they had arrived. As much as Angie wanted to speak with those she'd counted as friend in the boarding house, she was too sensitive to not pick up on their fear and alarm.

Even exhausted as she was, Angie's excitement at the simply ridiculous penthouse Jarvis showed them with a flourish swept her up. Really, a phone in every room? It was a probably a good thing Howard had ducked out or she might have done something stupid like kiss him and give him the wrong idea. Though the quiet desperation for them to accept his gift had been very raw on his face. 

It was an awkward conversation with her mother as Angie was jolted again at the restrictions she now had to function under. Luckily, Mama was finally mollified by Angie's swearing up and down that the only part Howard Stark had played in her new living quarters had been the money. The woman business partner threw the older woman off, but she bought the half-truth of Angie's role as friend, secretary, personal assistant and confidant. Angie could only hope Peggy was ready to meet her big, boisterous family in reasonably short order.

Despite her excitement, she couldn't be bothered to stick her nose in every corner of the ridiculous space, barely dredging up the energy to leave the kitchen once her mother's voice was gone from her ear. A phone in the kitchen…

Peggy sat limply on one of the many couches in the massive central living room, her gaze distant as the dimness of evening gathered in the windows.

"Hey, English."

For a moment, there was no movement, even as Angie could feel Peggy's attention focus, at least partially. It was the first time she'd used the affectionate nickname since barging her way into Peggy's life, having been very careful to try and behave herself in the new work environment. Then the dark eyes focused, left the distant, sad, dark place where she'd been, elegant fingers tightening on the odd grey sphere trapped there. Having been a part of the endless debriefs, Angie figured she knew what it was, leaned over to separate one hand and scooting the other beneath the ball to cradle it.

"Come on."

Hand in hand, they drifted like ghosts through the dim space, piling their collective worldly goods in a jumbled pile in the first bedroom they found, separating only long enough to find bathrooms to scrub up in before falling into the big bed side by side. Separation still felt too raw.

Only two things were separated from the for-now unimportant clothing and other personal belongings. The battered rosary left to Angie by her beloved Nana and the small, framed picture of a scrawny, handsome young soldier with his eyes cast to the distance, forever trapped in black and white. Peggy caressed the edges of the silvery frame with gentle fingers as though in goodnight before sprawling back against the lush pillows. Past the unpainted honesty of her bare face Angie watched quietly, weary to her bones, yet still wide awake. She'd gotten snatches of Peggy's story over the crazy week, a sentence here, a connection there, bits and pieces she could string together like popcorn on a string. But the Englishwoman had yet to actively unload the tales that weighed her down like stones. So Angie took another chance, skimming fingers across the fine sheets to settle quietly on Peggy's upper arm and just rest there.

Breath stuttering in something that might be a sob, Peggy covered her eyes with her other arm, breathing hard, soul and heart weary.

"His name was Steven Grant Rodgers," she whispered, voice soft and vulnerable. "He was an unexpected force of nature in my life, not entirely unlike you."

Delighted, Angie scooted closer, snuggling her cheek into Peggy's shoulder near where she knew the bullet scars lay. The arm between them shifted, Peggy's knuckles settling against Angie's belly.

"None of us that were a part of Project Rebirth could fathom what on earth Doctor Erskine was thinking, but it was his serum and he always understood the strengths and dangers of what it could do to a person. I saw it quickly, that spark hidden beneath the physical drawbacks that held him back, and it drew me in. Steve was a true gem amidst the boars who old-fashioned thinking would have made into monsters."

Delighted with the softness of Peggy's voice, Angie settled in to listen until healing sleep at last came for them both.


End file.
